


And The Promises They Hold

by Daegaer



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, F/M, First Meetings, First Time, Manipulation, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-03
Updated: 2007-10-03
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://louiselux.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://louiselux.livejournal.com/">louiselux</a> for beta-ing! The title is taken from Dire Straits' "Romeo and Juliet".</p>
    </blockquote>





	And The Promises They Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://louiselux.livejournal.com/profile)[louiselux](http://louiselux.livejournal.com/) for beta-ing! The title is taken from Dire Straits' "Romeo and Juliet".

By the time anyone noticed, she thought, it would be too late to do anything about it.

 

*

 

Aya picked up her bag, scarlet with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," she said again. The eggs were all broken, she thought, feeling the moisture and clamminess seeping through the material. She'd really wanted to have an omelette for dinner, and now her dinner was gone and her lovely bag was ruined. She hoped the colour wouldn't run if she washed it. Maybe she could find the shop it came from and buy another so that Sakura wouldn't know how careless she'd been with her present.

"Please, it's all my fault," her victim said. "I was in the way." He straightened up, his hands full of her escaped groceries. "No harm done," he smiled.

"Thank you," she said. "I should get another bag, this one's all – eggy."

"Oh dear," he said sympathetically. He put his burden of oranges and juice cartons down carefully and peered into the bag. "Yes, I see. Wait here for a moment, I'll get you a plastic bag."

Aya stood there uncomfortably, watching him stride back into the shop. Every second made her feel more embarrassed. He must think she was an idiot – everyone who came out of the shop must think she was an idiot who couldn't watch where she was going. She had just decided to throw everything in on top of the eggs and flee when he reappeared, bags in his hands.

"Now, then," he said, handing a couple of bags over, "I think these should be enough, and this –" He held out a bag with something in it. "This is for you, an apology for my clumsiness." He smiled as she went an even deeper scarlet and tried to refuse. "No, no," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose, "It's my fault for stopping so suddenly in front of you. Sometimes I get turned round and need to think which way I should go." He bowed politely. "Goodbye."

"Oh, goodbye," Aya said, trying to stop blushing. She looked at his receding back, thinking he had good manners for a foreigner, then peeped into the bag. A half dozen eggs and a jar of coffee nestled at the bottom. She felt guilty; all she needed to do with her coffee was wash the outside of the jar. She pulled it out of the mess of eggs and gasped a little as the jar came apart in her hands. She was lucky not to cut her hand, she thought, tipping the egg-coffee mess into a bin and wrapping her bag carefully in a spare carrier bag. And she was lucky too that the gentleman had been more observant than her. Now she wouldn't have to do without coffee in the morning.

 

*

 

"We meet again."

Aya jumped, and dropped the bottle of vinegar she'd been looking at. The man beside her caught it, and put it back carefully.

"I'm a bad influence on you," he said, his voice so sorrowful that Aya had laughed before she knew she would. "I hope you got home easily last week?"

"Yes," Aya said, embarrassed again. "Thank you for the eggs and coffee –"

"I wouldn't have slept easy if I'd thought I'd taken away your breakfast," he smiled.

"I had some of the eggs for dinner," she said, and immediately felt a fool. Why should anyone care when she'd eaten the eggs?

He just smiled again, and walked her further along the aisle, adding a jar of pickles to his shopping basket. "I've grown very fond of these," he said conversationally. Then, "Do you always do your shopping at this time?"

"Yes," she said. "After I get off work."

"Me too," he said, indicating his suit. "Well, perhaps we'll see each other next week. If you'll excuse me for the moment, I need to finish shopping and get something ready for tomorrow." He bowed and headed for the frozen foods.

On a whim, Aya added a jar of the pickles to her basket.

 

*

 

"I'm sorry for running away last week," he said, reaching up to fetch a packet of biscuits Aya hadn't been able to reach. "I'd have been skinned alive if the project hadn't been ready on time. You know how it is."

"I just work in a flower shop," she said. "I don't have to bring work home with me."

"That sounds tempting," he said. "Maybe I should try it."

"What work do you do?" Aya asked.

"I work in futures," he said.

"Oh! Like stocks and shares?"

"Like that," he said, and shifted the basket to his left hand. "My name's Brad Crawford." He held out his hand, and Aya shook it gently. "And you are?" he prompted.

"Aya," Aya said, flustered. "Fujimiya Aya."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Miss Fujimiya," he said. "Perhaps you could give me some advice – should I buy chocolate or vanilla ice cream?"

"Chocolate," she said at once. "You should always get chocolate."

"From now on I'll never get anything else," he said, and grinned like a child when she laughed.

 

*

 

The next week Aya found herself telling him she went to school two nights a week, and that she had Tuesdays off from work.

The week after that she accepted his phone number and wondered if she'd agreed too quickly when he asked her to go for coffee on her day off. She wondered if he'd be offended she no longer thought of him as _Crawford-san_.

The next Tuesday she spent so long wondering what to wear she was almost late, and arrived at the station red-faced and out of breath.

"Are you sure you can take the time off?" she said anxiously.

"I think I'm owed a lunch hour," Brad said. "Anyway, I said I had a dentist's appointment."

"That's terrible!" Aya laughed. "You're such a liar!"

"You're right," he said. "Actually, I just asked someone to cover for me." He ushered her over to a coffee shop just in time to see a table free up.

"We're in luck, getting a table at lunch time," Aya said.

"I have excellent timing," he said, nodding to the counter where a waitress was just bringing out a new chocolate cake. "How about a couple of slices of that? We should always get chocolate after all."

"We _should_ ," Aya said.

It looked delicious, and she could always worry about getting fat some other time.

 

*

 

"I thought I'd missed you," Brad said, putting several packs of noodles in his basket. "Where's your shopping?"

Aya sighed as they walked along, and tucked her hair behind her ears. It felt as grimy as the rest of her. It was foolish of her to have come, she thought. "We had stocktaking," she said. "I'm too tired to buy anything. I'm just going to heat up some rice."

"You can't just have rice for dinner," Brad said.

"When I was a naughty little girl and I didn't want to eat what I'd been given my mother used to say, "Lots of people in this world only have rice for dinner"," Aya said. "It'll do for one evening." She felt sad, and shook it off, telling herself it was just the tiredness.

"No, it won't," Brad said. "You'll just have to have dinner with me." He looked at the noodles ruefully. "As I'm not much of a cook, I hope you won't mind a restaurant."

"I couldn't poss –" Aya started.

"You could," Brad said. "You wouldn't be naughty." He put his basket down and with his foot casually shoved it half behind a display of floor cleaners. "Quick! Before the noodles react with the polish and we're all killed in some sort of delicious and dust-suppressing international incident!"

"You can't just leave that there!" Aya said, amused.

"I'm _very_ naughty," Brad said, taking her elbow. "You couldn't possibly compete." He steered her out of the supermarket, sternly telling her she'd have to stop giggling if she ever wanted to be an effective secret agent.

The restaurant wasn't anything fancy, which was a relief. She didn't think she could have endured anything fancy. She probably wouldn't have been let in anyway, not when she probably looked as limp and bedraggled as she felt. It was nice to just sit and have someone bring her food she didn't have to prepare and wouldn't have to clean up after. It was good to sit there and just have Brad nod as she told him the boring minutiae of her day, and how she wasn't going to stay in the flower shop forever, she just had to study hard enough to get into college and how, one day, she'd be a nurse.

"You'd be a good nurse," he said. "You're a caring person."

"Thanks," she said. "You're the only person apart from my brother who's taken me seriously about being a nurse."

"I hope he sticks up for you," Brad said.

Aya looked down at her bowl. "I haven't seen him since I was sixteen."

"He doesn't come to the shop? Not at all?"

Brad looked intent, like he wasn't the sort of man who'd vanish on his sister.

"I think he left the country," Aya said. "Do you have a sister?"

"No," Brad said, looking confused. "When did he go?"

"I don't know," Aya said. "He just went." Brad put his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers lightly. Aya caught at his fingers as he pulled his hand back, not wanting to give up the comforting touch. Brad pulled his chair round the table nearer to her. He put a hand on her cheek. He kissed her. Aya wondered how meekly compliant he thought her, to just _let_ herself be kissed over dinner in public, so she put a hand on the back of his neck to stop him pulling back and was rewarded with what she thought was surprise in his face. She let him go after he kissed her again, at once all too aware of the other people in the restaurant studiously ignoring them.

"We just can't –" she said. "Not in a restaurant –"

"I told you I was very naughty," Brad said, amusement in his voice. "Would you like dessert? Would you come to my apartment for coffee?"

"I think I'd really like a cup of coffee," she said, and sat quietly, refusing to look other than calm, as he called for the bill.

 

*

 

Brad's apartment was a neat, pleasant space and bigger than she'd expected. Nothing seemed out of place – even the dishes left to dry in the kitchen seemed arranged according to size and colour. She looked round the living room in approval, noting how clean and new everything seemed. Her only experience of men's private spaces was her memories of her brother's room, though Momoe sometimes talked about how untidy his friends could be. Watching Brad put his suit jacket neatly on a hanger and take off his tie, vanishing briefly into the bedroom to put them away, she was glad to see there were houseproud men in the world. When Brad went into the little kitchen she fled into the bathroom and brushed her hair over and over till it crackled and didn't look so much like it had been tightly plaited all day. She was a mess, she thought despairingly as she washed her face and scrubbed at her nails with a firm new nailbrush. The soap was sweet-smelling on her hands and face, like something she'd enjoy using herself if she knew the brand; it was a new bar - she distracted herself for a few moments by looking for the wrapper in the little bin, but it was empty. She wished she were fresh from a bath and dressed in something sophisticated and expensive, not bedraggled and in crumpled work clothes. _He wants me here_ , she told herself, taking deep, calming breaths. _He wants_ me _here_. The thought made her brave enough to go back out.

" _There_ you are," Brad said teasingly, and handed her a cup of coffee.

"It's very good," she said, sipping.

"Thank you," he said, indicating the sofa.

They sat drinking coffee in silence till Aya was sure she was an idiot and had misunderstood everything, but then she had no coffee left, and Brad took her cup away and put it with his on the floor before kissing her. It felt as nice as it had in the restaurant and Aya leaned into it, letting him tug her against him. She hadn't had a boyfriend before her life was destroyed, and none in the years since she had woken, and felt there was a lot of time to make up. So she smiled against his mouth when he put a hand under her shirt and whispered encouragement when he put his hands on her breasts and when he ran a hand up her thigh.

"I wish I didn't look such a mess," she murmured as he undid her clothes like he was unwrapping a present.

"You're beautiful," he said, as she'd hoped, and didn't stop touching and kissing her.

"Brad," she said at last, clutching him and wondering how she could be so shy so late, "I've never –"

"I'm going to take very good care of you," he said quietly. "I promise." He pulled away and stood, holding out his hands. "Come on, Aya. Come with me."

She was an adult, and could do as she pleased, and she liked that there was such hope in his face, that it all depended on her. There was no point being shy, no need to worry. She took his hands and watched the hope turn to bright, hot happiness. She stood and walked hand-in-hand with him to the bedroom, feeling powerful, like he was the one who was naked and trusting.

 

*

 

Every evening Aya had free the next week she spent in bed, astonished she had so much to learn and how pleasant the lessons were. There seemed no time for shopping or food, with her meals on those evenings being snacks snatched in Brad's kitchen before going back to bed. She was glad he hadn't much crockery – who wanted to waste time on washing up?

The second week the smell of cooking crept out into the hall even before Brad opened the door.

"I got your text saying to come straight here," Aya said, and tugged lightly on the incongruous apron. "Emerald and shocking pink aren't your colours."

"A gift from a very silly friend," Brad said. "He thought the flowers were a nice touch." He pulled her into his arms. "I made dinner," he said.

"You can think about food?" Aya said, and kissed him. "You should be hungry only for love."

"I am," he said, and grinned. "But I was ravenous for fast food too a lot of last week. It seems the finer feelings don't sustain me very well. Now we can be sure of having food to snack on, I made enough to last us for _days_."

"What is it?" Aya asked as the first steaming dish was taken out of the oven.

"An American delicacy," Brad said. He looked a little shame-faced then. "Macaroni and cheese, it's one of the few things I can cook without ruining it. It's – very - comforting," he said, punctuating his words with kisses. "And when you're not here, I need comfort."

"I'm here now," Aya said, looking at the bubbling cheese. "And that looks very hot. We should probably let it cool down, it wouldn't be comforting to get burnt."

"Such a clever girl," Brad said as she untied the apron. "Let me take the other dish out first."

By the time they came back to the kitchen the food was lukewarm. It had been a good idea to have it ready, though, Aya thought, as they wolfed it down and threw themselves back into each other's arms.

 

*

 

Work was a waste of time, Aya thought. What good was served by selling flowers? She couldn't keep her mind on the job at all, and resented every moment spent away from Brad. Her day off was useless unless she could meet him for an hour, or persuade him to call in sick. She'd managed that once, and was sure she could persuade him again. The thought of spending two nights a week at school was a torment, and studying impossible. She could, she decided, catch up on homework some other time, and could afford to skip most classes sometimes and the English classes all the time. She was learning plenty of English as it was.

"You're so distracted these days," Momoe said. "Aren't you well?"

"I'm fine," Aya said. "Let me close up, I should get ready for school."

"You have a test tonight," Momoe said, looking at her very straight. "One of your classmates rang to let you know you should study for it."

"It's a bit late now," Aya said in annoyance.

"She rang three days ago," Momoe said. Before Aya could say a word she went on, "Rushing away from work, missing classes, staying out all night sometimes – it's quite normal for a girl your age to have a boyfriend, Aya-chan. I don't like how secretive it's made you, though." Aya didn't say anything. Momoe wasn't her mother, she thought. It wasn't her business. Momoe took a picture from her pocket and put it on the table. "I don't think much of your boyfriend," she said.

Aya looked at the blurry photo of her kissing Brad, and felt fury rise. "It's not your business," she snapped.

"A nice sort of man, letting you make a display of yourself like that in public," Momoe said sternly. "He should know better, he's so much older than you. Too old, in my opinion."

"He's only thirty," Aya said. "And it's my business."

"Thirty? He's probably married."

"What? How dare you? He's not married!"

Momoe looked both angry and amused. "Are you so sure? He probably has a family to go back to when his contract here expires. Foreign workers don't want to stay here, they want to go home and remember the charming exotic times they had here and the charming exotic girls they met."

Aya pulled out her phone and hit redial. "Are you married?" she asked when he answered.

"What? No," Brad said. "Of course I'm not – what's this about?"

"A friend of mine says you're probably married and just amusing yourself by having a Japanese girlfriend."

"That doesn't sound like a very friendly thing to say," Brad said cautiously.

"You're quite right," Aya said. "I'll talk to you in a little while, OK?" She hung up and smiled meanly. "He's not married."

"It's an easy thing to lie about," Momoe started, then she stopped, and straightened, no longer looking quite so elderly. "I've tried to give you as normal a life here as I could, Aya-chan. Obviously that isn't going to work any more. This is the truth. He's a terrorist. His name is Brad Crawford, he's an assassin and he works for a group your brother fought against."

"Oh, you just looked at my phone to get his name," Aya said dismissively. "What a ridiculous story! It's disgraceful you spied on me, though."

"He kidnapped you once before," Momoe said. "You made it easy for him this time." The bell rang. "That'll be Sakura-chan," she said. "I asked her to come round to talk some sense into you."

Sakura came in, looking worried. "What is it?" she said. "I got your message, Momoe-san –"

"Talk to your friend," Momoe said. "She's made some bad choices. Take a look at that photo of her boyfriend - I'm going to ring Rex."

Sakura picked up the photo, and her hand flew to her mouth. "No," she said. "Oh, no."

"Oh, stop," Aya said, irritated. "I didn't think _you'd_ care about me going out with a foreigner."

"It's _him_ ," Sakura said. "He's a _murderer_. What did he do to you, are you all right? Aya-chan, are you all right?"

Aya folded her arms. "Don't _you_ start."

"What? Don't you know who this is? I _told_ you what those people were like."

Aya drew herself up. "I know who he is. He's my boyfriend. That's all _you_ need to know."

Sakura looked hard at her, and back at the photo. "Do you really know," she said in a suddenly venomous voice, "What this man is like? What he does for _fun?_ Do you know what he and his friends did to me?"

"He's not one of those people," Aya said. "Don't be stupid, why would people like that still be hanging round?"

"I tried to save you from them, and they _beat_ me," Sakura said. "His nasty little lieutenant kicked me into the walls and this man that you're _kissing_ ," she threw the photo down, "He said, 'Don't hit her too hard where the bruises will show.' And his friend _did_ something to me, Aya, like his hands were all over me inside my mind and said, 'Maybe I'll just fuck the information out of her'." She nodded in satisfaction as Aya flinched at the word. "And your precious _boyfriend_ said, 'No, they might check to make sure she's a virgin. Fuck her afterwards'."

"That's a _lie!_ " Aya yelled. "You damn liar!"

"No, Aya," Sakura said coldly. "That's the point in the conversation where you should have looked horrified and said, 'Oh, Sakura-chan, I'm so sorry, I never knew'. What the hell do you think you're doing? I wouldn't want him to so much as touch my hand, and you're _fucking_ him?"

"You are wrong," Aya said. "You can't imagine how wrong you are. I'm going out." She turned away, shaking with anger, and Sakura grabbed her hand.

"Aya!" she said. "Aya-chan, wait! Please! Aya-chan, he took you away before, and they did things to you, I know –"

"You're unbelievable," Aya said. "I was a virgin. He didn't do anything I didn't want him to."

"No! I mean, there were doctors, and they did things to you. I _saw_ it, Aya-chan, your, your _friend_ said they were experimenting on your DNA. Don't you see, you're in danger, he must want you for the same thing now –"

"All of that's rubbish," Aya said. "You were traumatized, Sakura-chan, I know you were kidnapped, but not by people with magic powers! That was just something in a dream, or something, that you convinced yourself of."

"They had you too."

"So I'm told," Aya said. "All _I_ know is I woke up in that car with you and Manx, and nothing left of my brother except some crazy story about secret organizations and demons." Sakura was crying now, and still clinging tightly to her hand. "Don't cry," Aya said uneasily. "It's all some misunderstanding." Sakura just shook her head wordlessly, holding on.

Momoe came back and tutted at the scene. "I couldn't reach Rex. They said she's working late with Omi-kun. We'll talk to her in the morning."

"I wish Manx was still here," Sakura said in a thread of a voice. "She could convince you, Aya-chan."

"Manx wouldn't have let Eszett get near you," Momoe said. "Rex should be more hands-on."

Aya looked between her and Sakura. Rex was good at convincing people to do what she wanted. Aya had met her once, with the young man Momoe called "Omi". Rex had explained clearly how Aya must live, that "Mamoru-sama" would pay all her education fees and that she must never try to contact either her brother or the Takatori family without prior permission. Aya had meekly signed everything put in front of her before watching her benefactor press his seal to the contracts with a bright and empty smile. He could take away her chance to go to nursing school. He could take away her job and her home. If Momoe made her speak to Rex, she could get Mamoru-sama to force her to do as they wanted. She took a deep breath and let herself calm down as much as possible.

"I'll talk to Rex in the morning," she said. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Momoe-san. I'm sorry I fought with you, Sakura-chan. I just – I just don't know what to think. I'm so sorry to have worried you both." She hugged Sakura. "I'll make us some tea."

Momoe came into the kitchen with her, as she'd expected. Aya made a pot of tea and brought it back into the shop. She needed them to drink in the shop, not the kitchen. For an agonizing half-hour she let them tell her how silly she was, how much danger she'd been in, and tried not to look too sullen. Momoe followed her into the kitchen when she made the second pot of tea, too. The scolding that followed over the fresh cups of tea was more muted, Aya thought.

"Let's just go over the accounts for today and then call it a night," Aya said, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. "I'll make some coffee this time, will I?"

"Not at this time," Sakura said, obediently looking at the receipts. "More tea's fine."

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," Momoe said, heading for the toilet.

Aya went back to the kitchen and filled the kettle, sure Sakura would notice if she didn't hear the water. Then she opened the back door as quietly as she could and slipped out, waving down a taxi on the corner.

Her phone rang as she fastened the seatbelt. "Are you all right?" Brad said. "You didn't ring back, and I wasn't sure if I should ring you –"

"Are you at home?" she said quietly. "I'll be there soon."

 

*

 

She felt safe the moment she crossed the threshold.

"What's going on?" Brad said, his arms around her.

"My friends really don't like you," she said into his chest. "They want me to never see you again."

"Are you going to listen to them?"

"No," she said, and tried not to think of how horribly persuasive Rex and Mamoru's money could be. "Let's run away."

"OK," he said. "Wherever you want."

She smiled and let him go for long enough to fetch two glasses and a bottle of wine. She reached past him to get a tumbler for a drink of water and frowned at the dirt on the glass. It must have been put away dirty by mistake. She thought it looked like orangeade, but that was stupid, because she'd drunk some _days_ ago, and Brad didn't like it. He only had two tumblers, surely he'd needed to wash them since? She took her wine and wandered back into the sitting room. Some things were in different places than she remembered, others were exactly as she'd left them. She thought of how new everything in the bathroom was, how few clothes Brad seemed to have in his wardrobe, as if he only lived in the apartment a couple of days a week. When she turned around he was watching her silently and steadily.

"I've never been married," he said, breaking the silence.

"Good," she said. And then, mocking her sudden misgivings, "Do you work for a secret organization that wants to take over the world? Eszett, I think it's called?"

"No," Brad said calmly. "I do not work for Eszett. I don't think I'd like to work for a secret organization."

"Let's go to bed," she said. Of course Momoe and Sakura were wrong.

"OK," he said, and took her hand.

 

*

Aya sat on the bed, glad that Brad had been delayed. He'd said he was going to the bathroom, but she could hear him talking quietly on the phone in a language that wasn't Japanese or English. The thing to do, she thought, was to try to make _sure_ it was obviously better not to try and influence her away from him. She pulled her name tag from her work smock and shook all the condoms from the box. It was the work of seconds to stick the pin into the centre of each little foil packet. By the time he came back, everything had been put away neatly.

"Sorry," he said. "I had to make a call; a situation's developed at work."

"Nothing bad?" she said, pulling him down beside her.

"I saw it coming," he said, kissing her.

Aya pressed a condom into his hand, and felt a thrill of victory as he opened it.

By the time anyone noticed, she thought, it would be too late to do anything about it.


End file.
